So I stayed on the porch, choosing to ignore the chorus of vendors trying to get me to leave in search of some relief (Your favorite show is on; maybe what you want is wine . . . ). I knew if I left all I would find was sugar or alcohol, and my soul would be no better for it. So I chose to let the evening continue to have its healing ministry. Remember—God doesn’t like to shout. His invitations are much more gentle.
